Run To You
by purplepagoda
Summary: It's late and Ziva can't sleep. Will she finally be able to admit her true feelings to Tony? Will he reciprocate, or break her heart?
1. Never Too Late

She stares at herself in the mirror. She notices the bags under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well, barely at all. It wasn't like there was anyone there keeping her up, just the voice in her head. This was what heartsick felt like. If she was ever going to get over this, she had to resolve this. She didn't want to tell him. She thought that admitting it first, would be a sign of weakness.

She stares at herself in the mirror. The look in her eye tells her, that she can't wait much longer. It was too much to bear. It was becoming too much. It was eating at her, she didn't want to admit it, but she had fallen. She had fallen hard, he had no clue. She didn't know if he should know, or not, but she couldn't live with his weight on her chest anymore.

She leaves the bathroom, she flips off the light, and goes into the bedroom. She sits on the edge of the bed. The lamp illuminates the room. Outside her window the rain pours. She looks at the clock, it tells her it's too late to do anything. She turns off the light, and crawls into bed. Twenty minutes later, she turns the light back on. This was ridiculous. Unbelievable, when had she let him get such a tight grip on her?

The truth was that she could have anyone. She had a lot of someones in her past, but none of them were the one. She was sick of being alone, but she wasn't going to settle. No one else ever measured up. There was only one person she wanted, only one person that she needed. There was only person she believed in, and trusted, and knew was loyal to her, no matter what.

She looks at the empty bed, the emptiness digs a hole inside her. She had a lot of those. There were bullet holes, and scars. There were wounds that wouldn't heal, but the one to the heart, it was never going to heal, if she didn't do anything about it. She didn't know if he wanted her. She didn't know if it would blow up in her face. She just knew that she needed to tell him, before it was too late. She was afraid that he was slipping away, that if she waited much longer, she would miss her chance.

She throws back the covers, and jumps out of bed. She strips off her pajamas, and pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She leaves the bedroom, and heads into the living room. She grabs her jacket, and her keys. She slams her door on the way out.

Fifteen minutes later she finds herself at his door. It takes her several moments before she digs up enough courage to knock. As soon as she does, she wishes that she hadn't.

He goes to the door, and looks out the peephole. He quickly opens the door. She stands in front of him, looking as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. She searches his eyes for a moment, her gaze eventually falls on the mat her feet are standing on. He decides that he should ask the questions, unsure if she's ok, or not.

"What are you doing here?"

She looks up, at his face, but not into his eyes, "I...um..." she struggles to come up with an answer. She takes a breath, and then comes up with a response, "I should not have come."

"You're here now."

"I should go."

"Come in," he offers.

"It's late," she argues.

"Please," he replies.

She nods. She steps inside.

"You're soaking wet," he comments.

"I have been out there a while, I guess," she admits, unsure of the amount of time she had been standing outside.

"Let me grab you some dry clothes," he suggests.

She doesn't argue. He goes into his room, and returns with a clean t-shirt, and a pair of NCIS sweats. He hands them to her.

"Let me get you a blow dryer," he adds.

"You have a blow dryer?" she scrunches her face.

He points to his hair with his left index finger, "This does not happen by itself," he admits.

When he returns she has peeled off her wet clothes. He tries not to stare, but he can't help but notice the scars as she reaches for the t-shirt. He looks away, knowing that she can feel him looking at her. He turns around.

"Found it," he reveals.

She slips on the sweatpants, and turns around. He hands the hairdryer. He watches her as she dries her hair. He waits patiently for her to finish. When she does she slips the hoodie over her head. He offers her a seat. She shakes her head. He plants his cheeks on the arm of the couch. She leans against the table, with her arms crossed.

"Back to my question. What are you doing here?"

"I'm tired of pretending, to be completely unaffected."

"By what?"

"By you," she answers.

"I see."

"I think that it was a mistake for me to have come here. You do not want to hear this."

"Tell me," he pleads.

"I am tired of being alone. I am tired of playing this stupid game. I do not want to play anymore. I don't care who knows. I need you to know. If you do not reciprocate, that is fine, I can deal with that. I just need to know that you know the truth."

"I'm listening," he replies.

"I have been looking for someone to make all of my wrongs right, to make me feel like that I made all of my mistakes for a reason. I've been looking in all the wrong places. I keep coming back to one answer, and for a long time I could not admit it to myself."

"Admit what?"

"The answer was always you. You are the one who I can trust with my life. You are the one that can read me like an open book, even when I have shut down. You are the only one, in the whole world that I should not be with. But, the truth is, I want you. I just want you. I know that it's wrong, and I know you don't feel the same, but that is the truth. I cannot hide my feelings any longer. I wish that I could, I do not want to ruin what we have, but...sometimes the truth is the only thing that heals the wounds."

"You have a lot of those."

She nods, in shame.

"I know that your physical scars are outnumbered by the emotional ones, you might not want me to see that, but I do."

"There are a lot of things about me that I do not want you to see, but you do. You seem to be the only person who I cannot hide from. I do not know why that is."

"I make you feel safe. I make you feel like nothing else matters. I don't care who you were, I just take you as you are."

"Even when I am broken."

He gets off the couch. He walks over to her. He wraps his arms around her. She tries to fight back the tears. The stubble on his face brushes against her ear. She feels his warm breath on her. She feels her heart beginning to thaw out, even if this was momentary, she needed it, she needed him.


	2. Slide

His lips graze her ear. "I would have waited, forever," he reveals. She allows herself to breathe. He pushes hair out of her face. He cups her face in his hand. Her face is stained with tears. She looks up at him with questioning eyes.

"Your eyes betrayed your secret a long time ago."

"I should go," she replies.

"No. You shouldn't go anywhere. You're right where you need to be."

"I..." he places his index finger to her lips to quiet her. She feels her pulse quicken. After a moment he moves his finger. His lips touch hers. She pushes him away. He studies her for an explanation."This is not about sex," she reveals.

"I know. If it was we wouldn't have already done it," he answers. "I know that you thought if we had sex, it would get it out of your system, but you were wrong."

"Yes," she replies softly.

He pulls her closer to him. Their lips meet once again. After a few moments the kiss ends. He looks at her, and smiles. He flips off the light.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life," she answers.

He offers her his hand. She takes it. He leads her into the bedroom. She feels a moment of anxiety. He pulls back the covers, and climbs in.

"Come on," he implores.

She climbs in next to him. He wraps his arms around her. He kisses her temple.

"I told you, this is not about sex."

"I know. I just want to sleep with you."

"I..."

"Close your eyes, go to sleep," he adds.

Her breathing slows. She moves a millimeter.

"Am I crowding you? I can move."

"No. I'm fine."

"Good. Now close your eyes."

"What are you going to do?"

"Close my eyes. When you wake up, I'll be right here, just holding you."

She holds onto his arm.

"We have to work in the morning," she reminds him.

"The alarm is set," he replies.

"Are you doing this..."

"I am going to feel the same in the morning."

"And how is that?"

"Incredibly relieved that you finally admitted this, because I've been going crazy. Every woman I look at, I see your face. I go on a date, and all I think about is you, all I talk about is you. All I want is you."

"And in the morning?"

"I will still want you."

"At work?"

"I'm tired of pretending too. I don't care what rules we're breaking. I don't care who knows. I just want you. All I have ever wanted is you. I thought that I had made that clear. I would go to the ends of the earth for you. I guess that actions aren't really louder than words, are they?"

"Actions are just actions, without words they have no meaning."

"I see."

"When I was in Somalia, I kept praying that I would see your face, just one more time. I knew that even if I didn't leave their alive, if I saw you one more time, if I could tell you goodbye, it would all be worth it."

"I told you, I couldn't live without you. I guess I should have elaborated on that."

"It would have been nice."

"Even if I could live without you, I wouldn't want to. Life without you, is not worth living."

"I never understood what heartsick meant, now I do."

"I'm here. You've got me, and I'm not going anywhere."

"All good things must end," she recites.

"Not this. This is not going to end."

"This moment is going to end, when the alarm clock goes off tomorrow."

"We can relive this moment tomorrow night," he offers.

"Oh..." she tries to formulate a response.

"When I wake up, I get disappointed that I don't see your face. I keep thinking that I should wake up, and you'll be right beside me. That is where you belong, right beside me."

"It has taken too long to figure that out."

"We can try to make up for lost time."

"Ok."

"Now go to sleep."

She closes her eyes, and relaxes. He takes it all in. He lies next to her, smelling her, and listening to her breathe. He feels her hair in his face, but doesn't care.

For once in her life she feels safe. With his arms around her, she finally feels safe. She feels at peace. This moment is better than she could ever have imagined.

He feels relieved to have her in his arms. He feels at home, in his own home. He feels whole, for once in his adult life. This is how he wanted to spend every night for the rest of his life.

She could get used to the idea of waking up to him everyday for the rest of her life. The rest of her life? She should probably slow that train down. She had to face the fact that this may not last forever. He was not keen on commitment. She would simply revel in the moment that she had.

This was unbelievable. All these years running from commitment, he was driven right into her arms. He had found her, and he didn't want to let her go. He wanted this to last, forever. Forever? Forever seemed just long enough.

He begins to drift into oblivion. She fights sleep, too afraid to let this moment slip away. His breathing slows. She feels his strong, warm around her, and she finds solace, lying next to him. She feels his heart beating, in slow, regular intervals.

With her eyes closed she takes in the moment. She breathes in the smell of his soap. She feels him breathing into her hair. When she's sure that he's asleep, she allows herself to drift from the room, towards dreamland.

"Love you, Ziva," he reveals in his sleep.


End file.
